


Allegro Appasionato in B my Boyfriend, Otabek!

by Celestiar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Couple Skating, Crush, Developing Relationship, Fondness, Friendship, M/M, Misunderstandings, OtaPli, Otario, Unrequited Love, cutest boyfriends, hints of OtaMila, living in Russia, otayuri - Freeform, parenting Victuuri, rinkmates, side! Victuuri, studying abroad, supposed unrequited love, teenage love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:52:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestiar/pseuds/Celestiar
Summary: Otabek spends three weeks of joint skating practice with Yurio at St. Petersburg.When it's time for saying goodbye they have a hard time parting ways. But Otabek is starting university soon, right? And he needs to focus. And he is moving. He is moving to a different country. Gosh, how much Yurio'd miss him.What he doesn't expect is his friend popping up at St. Petersberg again. His bags packed ready to move into an own appartment at Russia. He... didn't even tell Yuri!!!What starts as a fond friendship has to overcome a lot of missunderstandings, hardships and fears of ruining everything they built up together. Will Otabek manage to confess what he really feels?Will Yurio be able to talk about what his heart tells him?Their journey has only just begun.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyah heyah, heyah! Welcome to my third work to Yuri on Ice!  
> Some friends had been requesting more of OtaPli and here it is :'3 A giant bunch of headcanons is waiting to be written down here and I hope you'll again have fun reading!  
> You'll probably get couple skating in here, a lot of fluff, two insecure teens, a bit school life, a TON of OtaPli and diabetes because they are too cute, cats, more cats, a tiny bit Victuuri, a greater bit Victuuri parenting Yurio and some meddling Mila :'3 
> 
> Quick note: To differenciate between Yuri and Yurio the russian Yuri is written 'Juri' in here just in the russian way of writing. From time to time I use some russian expressions I will give you translations for in the notes at the end of each chapter! (Therefore thanks to my encyclopedia aka my cutest cinnamon bun)  
> I've never been to either Almaty, St. Peterburg or Russia in general, but I'll do my best in gathering the information needed to write this.  
> Also I'm no native english speaker so excuse me if there are some mistakes in here.
> 
> And now ... Have fun reading <3

He looked up when he heard a knock on the door.

“Hurry up, man! I'm not gonna wait for an other 500 years!”  
Otabek threw a pair of briefs into his suitcase and sighed. Alright, he was running late and he knew his friend was waiting outside for almost 15 minutes.  
Quickly he lifted himself up from the bed and picked up his sports bag to finally move outside.  
  
“Sorry, I kept you wai- OUCH!”  
Instead of a 'good morning' or a 'nice to meet you' he received a kick against his shank.  
“How long did you want me to wait, you idiot?! I'm never gonna share any piroshki with you again!!”  
A small smile appeared on his lips, almost invisible. “Morning, Juri. Did you sleep well?”  
The small blond turned his head away. He was in the middle of insulting Otabek and he was just .. nice?!! That was not how it worked!!  
Together they made their way to the nearby station.  
“Did you have proper breakfast?”, the slightly taller one asked.  
Juri shrugged.  
He went to buy them some fresh buns at a little baker shop and handed one of them to his friend. “You need to eat properly else you'll stay the shorty you are.” The Altin flashed him a warm, gentle smile.  
“Pffft! You're the right one to say that!”  
Juri took the bun and munched it down just in time when their tram arrived.  
Yeah, he was right. Regarding his age the kazakh was relatively short. Not that he really did mind.  
  
It wasn't very far to the stadium where they were training. He had been here over the holidays, staying in a small, comfortable hostel Juri's coach had looked for and he was practising with the world's elitist skaters.  
Both, his friend Juri Plisetsky and his former rink colleague Yuri Katsuki had claimed the top positions at the Grand Prix final at Barcelona the last season and even though he was happy especially for his new-won friend he had to admit he envied him and only being left as the 4th made him sad. He couldn't even manage to beat that canadian dude JJ who screwed up almost his entire performance in the short program. It frustrated him. It frustrated him to no ends. And he told himself he'd get better and fight even harder for the next title. He _would_ be standing on the podium next season. And for this he had to improve and work his ass off.  
Lucky him that he befriended the gold medallist. They had met before. The last time he was here at Russia had been for the training camp hosted by Juri's coach Yakov Feltsman. It was his first year as a junior skater, but since he couldn't keep up with the russian skaters he was put to the novice class. And there he met him. This young, blond guy, stoic and distant; the one with the eyes of a soldier. All the years he never forgot them. The green piercing diamonds who judged him, who looked down on him. He never forgot Juri Plisetzky.  
He quit the ballet classes after he moved from Russia to America. Found out that every skater had his or her own style when he trained in America. And when he was back to Almaty he knew that it wasn't necessary to be like all the other skaters. There was no right way to skate. There was no right or wrong as long as he did it with passion and poured his heart into it.  
  
It felt good to be back to Russia. Sure it woke some old memories.  
“Why are you grinning like a goofball?”, he heard is friend arguing.  
“I was just remembering something from five years ago.” Otabek smiled.  
“We're almost there. Stop daydreaming and let's get to work!”  
Yeah, the Plisetzky was right! It wouldn't be long until he'd leave for Kazakhstan again. The day after tomorrow he'd take his flight back to Almaty and then it was time to get ready for his first university semester.

* * *

 

The others were already busy when they arrived at the rink.  
“Otabek! Yuriooo~”  
Yuki Katsuki, grand prix final silver medallist and japanese skater, waved towards them from the ice when they finally made it indoors.  
“Yuuuuuuri!!! I told you a million times to focus or you'll flop your jumps again!”  
Ah yeah. Viktor Nikiforov, his fiancé and coach, was holding him by the hips and stopping him from falling over.  
He heard a huff next to him.  
Juri always got annoyed when he saw them together. It had calmed, everyone said, but he could still feel that somewhere inside his friend still felt somewhat left out of the group. The small blond shoved his hands deeper inside the pockets of his jacket, way too focussed on not paying attention to the couple on ice.  
“Shouldn't you say hello at least?”, the Altin asked carefully.  
Juri huffed again.  
“He's still your coach.”  
“And you are not my mother!” He flopped down onto a bench taking the protectors off his runners. “We're not here to screw around! _Davai davai, bystro!!_ ”

Well, he was right. They were here to practice.  
During the first week he had undergone tuition from Juri himself. In his second week he received tuition from Yakov and his last days here he spend practising with the two Yuri's and Viktor Nikiforov as their coach.  
It had been hard days and day after day he found himself collapsing on his hostel bed right after he got home, but he felt that all of this sweat and power and torture was worth it!  
  
Learning about different perspectives was what he needed. Learning that everyone had an own style, own reasons, own techniques, motivations and tricks.  
At the end of today's lesson he rested arms leaned on the balustrade. When he was younger he crashed into them several times. He remembered the pain in his head from his first concussion or his bounced nose. He had come quite far since then. And still he had a long way to go.  
“It's your last day tomorrow, huh?” The slim blond slid over handing him a bottle of water.  
“ _Spasibo.”_ He took a mouthful and gulped it down. That felt good!  
“We won't be practising tomorrow since you have to catch your flight early. You have any plans for the day?”  
“There is something I need to take care of before I leave.”, he said in his usual indifferent voice. Otabek Altin wasn't the type to show many emotions. Sometimes Juri saw them slip. He had seen a few of his cute reactions over the past three weeks and knew he was just a bit of a shy guy.  
“University starts in a month, huh?”  
Juri seemed somewhat sad.  
“Hmn.” He had been waiting for this talk to happen. It had been inevitable. Juri knew he graduated high school, he sent flowers over on his graduation day and wrote him a message of how proud he was and sent a thumbs up photo with a cute smile from the rink where they were rehearsing for his new program for the upcoming season. He hadn't told him about his decision yet.  
“Did you finally decide for a university?”, the Plisetzky wanted to know.  
Otabek sighed. “I've received a bunch of scholarships from local universities. There were scouts at the graduation ceremony and they offered me a place.”  
“But?”  
“I won't stay in Almaty. I've decided it's time for a change.”  
“Where then?”  
  
_“_ _Heyaaaaaaaah!”_ Both of them only saw a flash of auburn hair as their talk was interrupted. Mila Babicheva, Juri's rink mate and one of the training partners the Altin had during his stay here at St. Peterburg, was standing between them and smiling. “Your last night at Russia, hmn?”, she flashed an encouraging smile in the direction of the oldest. “I see how much you've progressed! … Never the less~” She waved with her hand and her expression couldn't mean any good. “We should celebrate your last day here. Who knows when we will all be back together?” She winked at the black-haired.  
“Fuck off, baba!”, the shortest of all growled.  
“My my! Someone's a special snowflake here? ~”  
“Tch! Leave Otabek some rest! He's exhausted, just if you are too blind to see, old hag!”  
The subject of the discussion just watched in silence as they exchanged fast russian cusses and swearwords, insulting each other for a good fifteen minutes.  
  
“Maybe you should really get some rest. You've trained hard and we are very proud.” He heard a soft voice from behind him and felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Yuri Katsuki. “As much as we'd love to celebrate with you, we all know you've worked very hard and you need a break. We don't want to see you arriving completely exhausted back in Kazakhstan not able to move for the next season.”  
He nodded shortly. “Thanks for your time and tuition.”  
“No need to thank us. We felt honored that you asked and had a great time with you. And … if you ask me, you've made a certain someone especially happy.” The japanese's gentle brown eyes swiped to Juri who was still in a fight with his female comrade. “Ever since you arrived Yurio had been working extra hard. Maybe he wanted to impress you?” A soft laugh escaped his lips and he blinked a few times as he noticed how his fiancé was wrapping his arms around him to snuggle his nose against his neck.  
“Yurio needs a friend like you. He seems like a grumpy cat but deep inside he's just a soft small kitten who needs some love.” Now it was Viktor who talked, eyes closed still too busy with enjoying the closeness of his beloved.  
“Have you told him yet?”  
The Altin shook his head. “I've only said I won't be staying at Almaty. I didn't even tell him I'll study abroad.”  
Those two figure skaters were a rare and strange couple but he couldn't help to admit he liked them. Sometimes Viktor Nikiforov seemed just so air-headed and careless, but he knew deep in his heart he cared for everyone. Yuri Katsuki instead was a calm someone who managed to hide everything behind a smile. He was easily discouraged but during the last year built up a ton of mental strength which made him one of the world's best skaters. He always had potential but something held him back from showing it. The two of them felt like they were parents to his friend Juri. They deeply cared but weren't afraid to oppose him, argue with him but still loving him to pieces. He felt welcome in this little family. They've let him in with a warm embrace.  
  
“You should tell him sooner or later. He will find out anyways.”  
Yeah, they were right there but did he really want to let him know?  
“Did you hand in the documents yet? You know, you have to be fast, else someone will take your place!”  
He did. He sent them almost a month ago. Never would he ever risk someone would get this scholarship before he did! His future depended on this! And his future as a figure skater aswell.  
“Come, let's end practice for today. We all worked hard and did a good job. Time to relax and have some katsudon!”  
Katsudon? That was an interesting idea! To be honest he never tried it and couldn't wait to do so!

* * *

 

The evening passed faster than he wished to. He had been out with everyone who helped him improving and learning something new during the last weeks and when he got a glimpse of his wrist watch he felt a bit of sadness bubbling up in his stomach. It was already half past eleven. Sure it wouldn't be the last time of all of them together and still he'd miss the lively atmosphere and the laughter, the teasing between the two Yuri's, the friendly scuffles between Juri and Mila, Viktor's dog-like attire towards Yuri and even Liliana Baranovskaya's overexaggarated use of blush on her high, sharp-cut cheekbones.  
Watching the men's couple fighting over a bottle of sake he let out a little sigh.  
For someone living here it would become kind of a routine, huh?  
  
“Hey, Otabek~” It was the younger woman of the round who addressed him. “Before you leave!”  
She had a little piece of paper in her hands and folded it together, elegantly slipping it into the pocket of his leather coat. “My phone number and mail address if you need any help later~”  
He muffled a fast ' _spasibo_ '.  
Mila was a nice person aswell. She had greeted him friendly and had been surprisingly supportive when he skated under Yakov's guidance and helped him figuring out a few difficulties and getting used to the style of tuition the old russian coach offered. They had talked a few times during practice though she learned that he wasn't someone who talked very much and valued his comfort in a certain distance to everyone.  
“ Juri?”, he then asked and gave his fellow a quick gaze. “You want to leave? I'll give you a ride home.”  
Oh, right. He had his bike with him. The blond nodded and lifted himself up from a small cushion laying on the ground. They had a traditional japanese meal since the Katsuki missed Hasetsu from time to time and since three of them apparently loved katsudon and the rest said nothing against it they ended up dining japan style in St. Petersburg. Well …  
  
The young woman stood up aswell, saying the two of them goodbye. “See you tomorrow~”, she waved as they left the restaurant. “'ntil tomorrow.”, Otabek replied.  
But … there wasn't any practice tomorrow, Juri wondered. Where both of them meeting up in secret or what?  
As he wrapped his arms around his taller companion to sit safe on the seat of the bike he thought a bit more about it. They had gotten along quite well it seemed. Otabek even talked a bit more than usually with her around. Not that this would measure up to the lively conversation _he_ had with his friend! And still. Didn't he say he had something to do tomorrow? Was he really going on a … No, nononono, who in the fuck would go on a date with that old hag?! Well … to be honest she wasn't _that_ much older. She was 18, only a year younger than the Altin himself. Since he knew the other one was quite a loner he couldn't imagine them two doing any friendship stuff or so.  
He huffed dis pleasedly. That hag was stealing his Otabek from him!!!  
  
“You alright?”  
He heard the deep voice echoing in his head before he realized the motorcycle had come to a hold.  
“We are at your place.” He nodded towards the front door of the huge building where the teen lived together with his family. Helping him down from the bike the kazakh lifted off the helmet and freed the pretty blond strands of his hair that shimmered like liquid silk in the faint moonlight. For a moment he met his eyes and saw something that looked like sorrow in them.  
“ I 'll probably be asleep when you take off.”, Juri started, his eyes lowered staring at the gravel underneath his feet. Not that he could sleep that night but his parents probably wouldn't let him go to the airport alone in the middle of the night. At least he wanted to say him goodbye. And ... he hoped to spend the last day together but Otabek was busy, right?  
“Juri ...~” The taller one sighed. “I will be back in the blink of an eye, I promise.”  
“But you start university soon ...”  
“Yeah. And I will still have time to see you.”  
“You are at Kazakhstan …. “  
“I … won't be.”  
Juri's eyes widened for a moment but he didn't let the other one see it. “That's even worse. So you're … abroad …”  
“Yes, I'm studying abroad.”  
Hiding that sting in his heart was the worst. “… Coming here will be more expensive then.”  
“Yura …. Go and see your family now. They are already waiting for you.”  
“But-”  
But the Kazakh only shook his head and gave him a small, somewhat still pained smile. “We'll see each other again very soon, I promise you!” He took his hands and squeezed them carefully. “… Now go inside. I'll write you when I'm home.”  
Juri gulped. Nodded. Didn't turn his head to face him. “ _Davai,_ Otabek.”  
“ _Davai,_ Juri.”  
Then he watched him jumping back on the seat of his bike and driving away into the night .  
Yeah, Otabek had to pack. He would be moving soon. Even if he'd miss him he had to let him go. His friend was an adult. He had graduated. He'd be busy with preparations.

* * *

 

He knew it, still the _'Do svidaniya'_ he received at the time he knew Otabek's plane was taking off hurt. He already missed him and prayed everything worked out well all the time three weeks later because he'd been even rarer with words than he usually was, his texts were shorter.  
_// Hope your moving went smooth? How is the new flat? Where did you even move to?? //_  
  
Oh, if Juri Plisetsky only _knew_ where his skating colleague moved to!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnggggg hooooow will our dear Juri react when he finds out WHERE Beka moved? .... See in the next chapter :'D
> 
> Now translation!  
> 'spasibo' means 'thanks/thank you'  
> 'Davai davai, bystro' means somthing similar to 'hurry, man! Faster!'  
> 'Do svidaniya' means 'Good bye / Farewell / See you again '  
> What Davai itself means ... well if you've seen YoI you definetly know x'D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juri gets his phone taken away and misses some very important news.
> 
> Also Mila makes a fuss about a new team mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, I'm back - sweats nervously - 
> 
> Im so SO sorry for taking so long to update this, I'm currently taking my exams and the first semester at my new university is finally over.  
> The plot for the next three chapters is already made up, so fear not!! 
> 
> Also thank you to all of you commenters, I read eveything with such joy and it's so motivating ; v ; keep up the good work!
> 
>  
> 
> Translation to the russian works as always at the end of the chapter!

He was laying on his bed, eagerly waiting for a reply. Was he _really_ too busy to at least send him an _'Arrived safely. Write you later.'_?  
Slowly Juri was getting really angry.  
Still he had to lift his lazy ass up. Morning practice. How much it sucked to get up this early.  
Something wet poked his cheek. He stretched out an arm to pat the head of his cat. She meowed, than hopped down from the bed, brushing his nose with her fluffy brown tail. Probably she was hungry.  
Today was 3 rd September. The new semester had been going on for two days now.  
“ _Yurochka_ , come down for breakfast.”, he heard his grandpa's voice calling for him. Right, he was over for a visit while his family was away. God, he loved to spend time with his gramps Nikolai.  
Hastily he ran down the stairs, greeted by the delicious smell of freshly made _piroshki_.  
_“Dobroye utro, dedja_ _.”_  
With a happy hum he sat down on the small chair next to the stove and watched the mouthwatering dish getting ready. “Isn't it too early for this?”  
“My dear grandson, it's _never_ too early to have _piroshki_. Especially not for my favourite grandchild!”  
Juri gave him a small, but loving laugh. Yep, he adored his grandfather.

 

When he arrived at the rink most of the skaters were already there. It was half past six in the morning. Well, the early bird catches the worm or so they said, right?  
“Hey Mila, did it all go well?”  
He entered the scenery when his two coaches and his rink mates stood all together in a group. The woman with the shiny auburn hair and the hidden side-cut seemed to be the center of attention.  
“Well~”, she started talking again. “First I showed everything to him, can you believe it, we're studying together! Then we walked through the park and he invited me over for hot chocolate and waffles!!” For some reason she seemed overly happy. Was she fangirling or what?!  
Carefully Juri shuffled closer to hear a bit more what seemed to interest his entire team.  
“I helped him arranging everything during the last days. It worked well and he'll be here in the afternoon he said!” Her cheeks were flushed red as she hid them behind the palms of her hands.  
“Glad everything worked out. We were a bit worried since none of us heard anything.”, the pig Yuri Katsuki said. Or former pig. Actually he was quite back in shape right now.  
But who the fuck were they talking about?! Any important news he missed?!  
“Hmmm~”, Mila hummed again and smiled her brightest smile. “He's such a gentleman! I can't wait to see him more often! I still can't believe he'll be here for the next three years.  
Ah! But don't tell Juri yet, okay?”  
_“Don't tell me_ _**what** _ _?”_  
The female russian skater jumped as she heard the Plisetzky's dark angry voice behind her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! She promised that'd be a surprise for later!!  
“Ahhhh, Yuriooooo~”  
Oh god, please no!  
He couldn't escape Viktor's hug as the man flew towards him and rubbed his cheek against his own. The small blond hissed a warning as he tried to push him away with all his force.  
“My my, Yurioooo. Don't be so harsh to meeeeee~”, the older one whined. He sniffled and watched him with his big, sad puppy eyes.  
“Fuck off!” Juri cut him off and got himself ready for a short warm-up before he started rehearsing for his next program.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end he was still waiting for a message. Of course he didn't receive one. Of course he-  
His phone buzzed in the middle of class. Oh shoot! He forgot to turn off the notification alarm!  
“Mr. Pliset s ky, you want to hand me that phone, won't you?”  
Of course. Of course it didn't go unnoticed by his teacher. He cussed out loud.  
“Mr. Pliset s ky, _now!_ ” The older man gestured in his direction.  
Oh holy freaking SHIT, MAN!  
  
Yeah, nice. Great. Of course he had to see the headmaster after school to pick up his goddamn cellphone again. And he couldn't even give a good excuse for it.  
Ever since Otabek went back three weeks ago they hadn't had any contact and ever since then Juri felt like shit. Did anything happen? Was there something wrong? Did _he_ do anything wrong?  
He walked through the hallways of the old school building like a wild cat would do on a late evening's stroll through the forest and fields, no one really was here anyway. He … felt restless. And without his fucking phone there wasn't even a possibility to distract himself. He often found himself stalking through his instagram when he was salty; he could watch the fake Yuri and that stupid coach of his there and get mad at them for nothing. It helped though. Speaking of instagram … the Altin's last post had been four days ago, a photo of a heap of boxes with the caption 'moving'. Nothing more, nothing less. That was all he knew. No if he arrived safely, not if anything happened, not if he needed help or support or a friend or -  
Tch! It was no use to think about all this! Otabek was an idiot. And that was it!  
A glimpse to the giant watch at the entrance hall told him, it would be time to make his way to the headmaster's office now. Yep, he ditched his last class. But who cared anyway?  
He endured the lecture he got. By how important it was that he paid attention to the teacher, that all cellphones and electronic devices should be shut off during a lecture unless they told him differently, that ditching wasn't the right thing to do and a ton of other things to guilttrip him. Only with the small difficulty that no one _ever_ managed to guilttrip him.

He was glad when it was over, when he could pick up his skates from his locker and make his way back to the ice rink. Skating was exactly the distraction he needed right now. Wow, what a shitty day it had been.

 

* * *

 

 

“You got everything? Are you ready?” Her fingers impatiently tapped against the wood of the nearby desk. “We're running late. … What kind of first impression do you wanna give? Those are your new mates, so you better get your stuff done.”  
She only heard a grumble coming from the bedroom.  
What? It wasn't her fault they were running late, was it?!

While she waited she looked around in his small flat. There was not much here yet. She heard there was some delivery delay when it came to the furniture, the sofa was still missing and instead of stools there were boxes which looked like they would be replaced soon.  
At least the bedroom was somehow appropriately made up. There was a big cozy bed, some pillows and a huge blanket. It was just made to be a place to sleep since she learned that he liked to do his work at the kitchen table. Well …. If it'd arrive within the next week. For now they got him an old desk made of maple wood, which was a substitute for what would hopefully come soon, and was currently shoved against the back wall of the living room.  
It wasn't a very big flat, but still she found it nice. Around her on the walls she found some old pictures, some of them already yellowed and looking really torn, some new and bright. She didn't know he was the type to take photos, she had never seen him use a camera or his phone to take pictures.  
Her eyes stopped at a small wooden frame with some pretty golden ornaments on it. It looked so expensive …. Taking half a step forward she took a closer look.  
How strange …  
It was a bill from some time this year. Trying to read she realized it was not a language she was fluent in. It was not cyrillic nor was it english. Still she felt like she heard some of the words somewhere. … Could it be spanish?  
When she heard a door falling closed she turned her head away from it and looked over her shoulder.  
Ah, he was done.

 

* * *

 

 

When Juri arrived at the rink it was surprisingly silent there. What was up here? Haven't they all been so busy in the morning? He knew he was late, but this was no explanation for why so few of the russian skaters were here.  
He saw Georgie Popovich implementing some dramatic pirouettes to an even more dramatic violin concert piece but that was all he could find.  
With a sigh he made his way to the changing room and threw his school bag in his assigned locker.  
Huh ….?  
He blinked as he checked the metal shelves again. He was more than sure that this locker hasn't been taken for the last three years of his stay here at St. Peterburg. Now some strange 'Welcome' stickers were put on the metal door and a badly written name tag was put on it. He didn't make the effort to read it. So did they get a new skater or what? Someone new joined the russian national team? As if the current occupation wasn't enough pestering yet.  
Absentmindedly he kicked off his jacket and switched into his training clothes consisting of some black elastic pants and a slimfit black shirt. Nothing spectacular after all.  
When he was just about to finish changing he heard a huff and an exhausted gasping for air. Huh?  
The blond looked up and dark brown eyes met his.  
It took him almost three minutes to realize who he was staring at.  
The green orbs swifted sideways. Prominent chin, broad build, black hair, shaved down on the sides, sleeked out of the face ….  
_“OTABEK?!!!!!”_

The slightly taller one stared back, just as much surprised as the small blond russian in front of him. _“What the holy freaking fuck are you doing here?!!!”_ , Juri exclaimed.  
The Altin stayed silent.  
“Are you shitting me, Otabek Altin?!!!! You should be in _whereever_ and care for your fucking _studies!!!_ What the heck makes you come here????”  
“Juri, I- “, Otabek started calmly, looking at the blond with a calculating expression.  
_“What are you fucking DOING here?!!!”_ , the Plisetsky demanded to know.  
The Kazakh looked somewhat helpless. “I tried to-”  
“You tried to-?!!!” He could see Juri's anger building with every second. “Listen. I don't fucking _care_ , what you tried. Fact is you are _here at this rink_ , looking _fucking ready_ to take a quick skate with the russian national skating team when you should be at your place. In your shitty new city. And _STUDY._ At your new HOME!!!!”  
“Yura!”, he finally interrupted him. He stared directly into those green emeralds. He took a few slow breaths, laid his hands on the small one's shoulders. “I _am_ where I should be. This is my new home. I'm studying at St. Petersburg.”  
He saw exactly how Juri's mood switched from angry to frightening calm.  
“Ohhh. You study here. Right. How could I forget you told me something important like that~” Sarcasm was not even a word for what was under the surface of his dark voice as his eyes glistened with fury. That small guy was scary as hell. “Maybe you could have called me, you traitor? Or how about a message? Or a single note that you can't respond? Or at least a bit more than this shitty instagram post.”  
“…. Yura.” The blackhaired sighed and watched him closely. “Let's discuss this further after training.” He lifted a pair of well-polished brand new skates from his duffel bag. “Still have to change.”  
After all there was no use in getting angry about this right now.

* * *

 

  
  
“So when did you plan on telling me?”, Juri blew a strand of light silky hair out of his face.  
They were sitting in a classy black sports car which turned out to be property of the Altin. It was around 5 in the evening. A russian news show was playing on the radio.  
For the last 20 minutes they had just sat here in total silence, no one of them daring to take the first step.  
Otabek huffed from behind the steering wheel.  
They were still in front of the ice stadium. And they knew they wanted to clear things up in a space a little more private then the changing rooms.  
“For how long have you been here already?” The Plisetsky was surprisingly calm. Maybe earlier it was the shock speaking. Or maybe it was just because he was really short-tempered in general. Skating together after a month probably calmed him down.  
“About two weeks. I arrived at the 25th August.”  
“Hmn ..” Juri watched a child with a dog passing the street as he gazed out of the window.  
“Viktor and Yuri helped me with moving in. It was a hassle to find a flat in such a short amount of time.”  
“Why didn't you tell me you'd move here? I could have helped you as well.”  
“I wanted to surprise you … I promised you I'd be back soon after all.”  
Now the blond turned a bit to carefully side-eye him. Otabek could feel a weird tension building up. “Why didn't you … call me or so …? I've waited for your messages. Every day after day. I thought something did happen to you ….”  
“First I was busy with packing.” The older one sighed as he thoughtfully ruffled the long part of his black hair. “When I wanted to make a call I realized that my mobile service was already cut off. I went to buy a prepaid card but the kazakh service doesn't work here.”  
“I … knew you talked to Mila, didn't you? She mentioned something about someone coming to practice today. Don't lie and say there was no possibility to contact me.”  
“ …. Yeah. I got a new number. I called you a few times this morning because I wanted to ask if I should pick you up from school.”  
“Liar!”  
“Not lying.” He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his leather jacket and showed it to Juri.  
  
_> Yurochka (3)_  
  
“Eh? There was no - … Wait, there WAS!!!!”  
Of course there was!!!! That was the reason why he had to see the headmaster earlier!! With a very painful sound he smacked his hand against his forehead. “It was you! The unknown number was _you._ Goddamn. I usually don't check because who ever I want to get involved with is part of my contact list. Damn …. I'm sorry … I'm so … SO sorry ...”  
If only he had known …..  
“How about hot chocolate?”  
“W-What?!!!!” The russian skater stared at him, one brow lifted in confusion. Not believing his ears.  
“Hot chocolate.”, Otabek repeated. “Celebrate the new life at Russia.”  
Uh …..? Well … it … sounded ….. _good_ after all.

He heard the engine roaring as the Altin started to head towards the city center.  
Crumbling in the drawer underneath the airbag he found a box with a few CD's of several metal and rock bands. Right, Otabek had a fantastic taste in music, how could he forget?  
He pulled out one with the title _'Juri's Mix'_ written on it and shoved it into the CD slot at the cockpit. Was this …. a costume-made one?  
While Otabek was busy focusing on the street he looked for the packaging. As he scanned through the tracklist he noticed that some of his alltime favourite songs were on there. It was costume-made.  
When he heard the prelude of a song he knew a bit too well he groaned internally. Was he serious? That song was so freaking annoying. Viktor and the Katsudon had listened to it all the time and he remembered the two of them forcing him to skate to it together. He really, _really_ couldn't stand Dean Fujioka's voice anymore. But he said nothing.  
Instead he heard a soft, light voice singing along the last lines of the refrain. He …. never did hear that before.  
Well … after all that song maybe wasn't _so_ bad, he thought as he listened to Otabek's absentminded singing.  
All the anger of the past days was forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dobroye utro, dedja.” means "Good morning, grandpa."  
> And thats all the russian terminology for this chapter. You already know what piroshki are I suggest? 
> 
>  
> 
> If you like what you jsut read feel free to leave kudos and a comment.  
> I'd love to know what you think of the current chapter! <3


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